


Let me be a part of the narrative

by DormantAshes



Series: It’s all fair in love and war (therefore we all should suffer) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Break Up, Depression, Developing Relationship, Dream SMP War, Dream starts to lose it, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Heavy Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Not Canon Compliant, Sad Ending, Spoilers, for now..., i don’t know what else to tag uh, no beta we die like men, only fluff in chapter 1, only goes downhill from there, so does my writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DormantAshes/pseuds/DormantAshes
Summary: George doesn’t care for war.He never took this one seriously.Maybe if he did, things wouldn’t have happened the way they did.Maybe if he spoke up sooner, people wouldn’t have gotten hurt.Dream listens to him, right?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound
Series: It’s all fair in love and war (therefore we all should suffer) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943179
Comments: 4
Kudos: 134





	1. I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face

George can remember the first time he saw Dream's face. It was during the early days of this world, back when it was just the two of them. He had badgered Dream about often enough to start fights, Dream, for whatever reason was too nervous to show his real face.

George found it cute.

He would spend time imaging when it would happen, because it would, eventually. Whether it would be by accident, or in a dramatic display of emotion. 

He did not imagine it happening during one evening in which Dream smacked the door open, coming in from the soaking rain, and pulling his mask off so he could comfortably cozy himself into Georges bed. 

They had rented a two bed room in the village for a reason.

Despite this, Dream had made refuge in George's bed, ignoring the yelling from George himself, who hadn't even noticed the discarded mask on the floor. 

"Dream, Dream! Oh my god,"

"What?" He grumbled, his face buried in a pillow,

"Dream, for gods sake you're making the bed wet,"

"And?"

"W-why are you in my bed?"

"Its...warmer?"

"Dream," he sighed, "take off the wet clothes." Dream turned his head and looked at George with amusement on his face, 

"Are you asking me to strip?"

George failed to respond.

Instead he focused on memorising Dream's face. He knew Dream's eyes were green, he had told him that, but to George they were a strange gold like yellow. He wanted to hold his face, feel the warmth under his fingertips.

George silence made Dream tense, he could see the nervousness in his eyes.

"You know," George said, "if it wasn't for the fact my bed is now damp because of you I would be pissed and almost offended that this is your way of showing me your face." Dream laughed, playing off his anxiousness, George could see the smile he had and his heart stammered slightly.

"I'm sorry for ruining your homoerotic fantasies George, however can I make it up to you."

"Well getting out of my bed would be nice start."

"Woah woah woah, last I checked you get one wish and I was pretty sure you wanted me to strip." 

"Oh my god, I hate you so much."

"I can compromise with a nice cuddle."

"Thats not even remotely close to what I want, in face I'm pretty sure that is the oppo-" Dream shifted forward and pulled George into him, wrapping his arms round and resting his head on top. George tensed for a moment before relaxing into it, his skin seeming to flush under the contact.

"See George, warmth."

"When our home is built I want my own room," He grumbled.

"Uh huh, sure, sure." Dream dismissed, a tone which suggested that that was not going to happen. 

George found he didn't mind.

Nor did he mind Dream in his bed.


	2. If we don't stop it, we aid and abet

At first George didn't take the war on L'manburg seriously. When Dream told him that Wilbur was trying to get independence he thought it would just be a small debate in which Dream would pretend to care about before eventually conceding and giving them what they wanted.

He paid not attention to what was happening.

It wasn't until he saw the walls being built that something cold came over him.

Blood would actually be shed. 

He didn't know what to feel about it.

Their home became tense quickly after that. George would come home to see Dream and Sapnap pondering over plans that were skewed over tables, would see this focus in Dream's posture, the firmness of his voice.

Things were changing.

He never asked if George would fight, they both knew he would, that he would protect Dream with his heart and blood. 

But the thought of it all kept George up at night. 

He would think about Wilbur and Tommy and Tubbo and Fundy and- 

He would shut his eyes tightly and hold his breathe till the ache in his lungs overode any pain he felt.

He will fight for Dream. He knows he will. 

But then, one evening, a week after all of this began, George see's Wilbur sat on the outskirts of L'manburg. The moment Will spots him his eyes light up and he waved George over, bottle in hand. 

"Ah Gogy, long time no see." And for the first time up close, George sees L'manburg for what it is. There isn't much to see, really, George thinks, the only thing thats different is the wall.

And the way Will has a shine in his eyes. 

He's sitting on the wall, which at that point was a couple metres or so high. He looked cheerful, excited, basking in the golden glow of the evening with a sense of happiness which filled the air. 

"Don't think I should be talking to you," George half joked.

"Pfft, come on man, at least entertain me into thinking about joining us, us brits against the americans ay." George pushed himself up the wall and sat next to Will,

"Sorry but even if I wanted to betray Dream, I'm not wearing those clothes." 

"You wound me Gogy, will you at least indulge in a drink with an old man?" 

"Will, we're the same age," he took the bottle off him and took a sip. 

"To these lot I'm practically retired." 

"How are they, with all of this?" 

"Oh I've never seen them so excited, I'm pretty sure they think this is going to some dramatic battle esc war," he scoffed, "unlikely." 

George took a longer sip, the drink now heavy in his hand. For a split moment he thought about Dream, about the meticulous planning and gathering. About how Dream had been making deals and trades in preparation to destroy this rebellion. 

George heard a noise behind him and turned around. 

He locked eyes with Eret, who rubbed gunpowder off his hands and onto his trousers.

George swollowed and said nothing.

His voice caught in his throat.


	3. That would be enough

Three months into the war and George struggles to function. Food tastes of nothing and he can barely eat. Sleep avaids him. There are some days were by the time he's in bed he doesn't recall anything hes done that day. 

Things have gone too far.

Sapnap and Dream notice, he thinks, but they say nothing. 

Some evenings, when he goes of patrol his mind wonders. 

He misses it when it was peaceful.

He misses Dream when it was peaceful.

They hadn't slept in the same bed for months, Dream hadn't said anything about it which made George wonder if he had even been sleeping. There are days when George doesn't see him at all, he spends those days in his bed, not leaving it until he's called. He gets asked if hes ill, says no, and then they leave it at that.

He stopped going to the meetings, stopped wanting to know what would happen, who would get hurt. The information stings his mind with a burning guilt that these are his friends they're fighting.

They are still friends right? When this is all over?

He doesn't want to think about it too much, the idea of future crushes his chest. 

He needs to keep fighting. He thinks, he hopes, that if he helps, the war will finish quicker, and then he can get his Dream back. The one who smiled and and laughed, who would annoy George to no end. Who would spend his evening with George, when they would walk anywhere they wanted getting lost in their own conversations.

He misses that Dream.

But war priorities people, priorities their aims.

George is not an aim, he is a soldier.

So he keeps his mouth closed. Keeps his head down and does what is needed. The strings holding him up may be wearing away but for now he still stands. Still follows commands.

Its enough for him.

He fights for Dream, for the hope of a peaceful future. 

That should be enough.


	4. You forfeit all rights to my heart

George is the first to enter the home, anger seething off him. Dream follows behind without a word.

"You knew! You KNEW!" 

"So did you? You knew the deal I made with Eret months ago, why are you so angry at me?" George throws his sword to the floor, lets it stab into the wooden ground as he frustratedly rips off his armour. 

He needs to get the blood off of him. Now.

"Yes but what you failed to tell me was how the both of you filled the ground with TNT almost KILLING them and then, knowing I didn't want to fight, made me follow you down into that stupid fucking bunker where you tried to finish them off." Their screams still ring in his head, the sound of them hitting the walls wedging themselves into the small entrance corridor to escape. Wilbur, experiencing heavy wounds on his back as he shielded them from Dream's attacks. 

Fundy and Tommy had to carry him in order to flee. 

If George hadn't stopped Dream then- 

"I told you I didn't want to fight anymore, that I would stand by yourside and get resources and whatever else but I didn't want to hurt them, I didn't want YOU to hurt them." 

"And I said I couldn't promise you that. I said that this is war George, this isn't a game anymore, this is war and there are consequences."

George looked at Dream. Looked at the blood that had soaked into his clothes, had dried onto his mask. His cold, unwaving, stupid fucking mask.

"Look at me." 

"George, I am-"

"Take the fucking mask off and look at me Clay." 

The mask fell with a clatter on the floor.

Dreams face was exhausted. Bags hung under his eyes, his face was skinnier and paler. His eyes know longer the gold George remembered.

"Do you think your the good guy Dream?" 

The question hung in the air. 

"Do you? Is that how you sleep at night? I wouldn't know I haven't slept in the same fucking bed as you for weeks." 

"George-"

"Dream, I love you," he stuttered, "but I can't do this, I can't do any of this. Not anymore."

They both knew he wasn't just talking about the war.


	5. If there's a fire you're trying to douse, you can't put it out from inside the house

Sapnap let him know that Dream was in the war room.

"They jumped us, invisibility drugs, fucking audacity." He had been hurt quite badly, the right side of his body covered with cuts. "He hasnt said anything since we got back, you need to talk him back into reality." He pushes medical supplies into Georges hand and walked away to deal with his own injuries.

George said nothing, he looked at the box and took a deep breath in. He hadn't been in the war room in weeks, he had barely seen Dream at all since he stopped fighting. 

Pulling himself together he pushed the doors open and walked in. Dream was sat in his chair at the end of the table, his mask was off with a thin, light cut down his face. One arm, blood soaked, rested on the table, his hand holding something. The other arm fell loosly by his side.

George put the supplies on the table, grabbed a chair and sat close. Dreams eyes were to the floor. They were empty, dead. 

"Hey," was all George could say, grabbing a wet cloth and cleaning his face. His nose had stopped bleeding, the remains dry and crusted on his pale skin. 

"We weren't prepared." He whispered, "we're always prepared but this time we weren't." 

"Clay..."

"We weren't prepared." He repeats and George pulls off his hoodie, working on his battered arm, "we're always prepared." 

"Clay, please."

"We weren't-" 

"I know you weren't honey, I know," George starts to choke up, small tears making their way down his face.

"We're always-"

"Clay you can't do this anymore." Dream looks at him, holds his gaze. "Clay, they won't stop fighting, they won't ever stop fighting you, unless you kill them they won't stop trying."

"If I did?" 

"You won't, I know you can't," he lies, "they will keep fighting until this kills you Clay."

Dream is silent.

"Don't you see this is killing you, you don't even care about land you just don't want to lose," George's hands shake as he bandages Dream's arm, "and I can't lose you."

Dream is quiet and he says nothing for a moment. Just looks at George with nothing in his eyes.

George doesn't recognise who he's looking at.

Clay is not in the room with them.

He's staring at a stranger.

"I know how to end this," he finally says, "We can end this war." He stand with a wobble and George helps him steady.

"I know you can," he says softly, he knows how to end it too. Dream no longer looks at him, instead he lets go of the chess piece which rolls on the table carelessly. The Queen is covered with blood stains from Dream's grip.

George leans in and kisses Dream's cheek softly. He doesn't know how else to say goodbye.

Dream doesn't react, instead he stumbles out of the room and George let's him go, watches him step on the broken mask on the floor.

It didn't take long for him to pack.


End file.
